


where the fire burns hot and bright

by leanwellback



Category: Dungeons & Dragons (Roleplaying Game)
Genre: Dragonborn (D&D), Friends With Benefits, M/M, Oblivious Bard
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-19
Updated: 2021-01-19
Packaged: 2021-03-18 04:36:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,021
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28861182
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/leanwellback/pseuds/leanwellback
Summary: Ash thinks he's never had a proper boyfriend, but Ash is an idiot.A few scenes from my character's backstory in a homebrew D&D campaign.
Relationships: Original D&D Character(s)/Original D&D Character(s), Original Male Character/Original Male Character
Comments: 8
Kudos: 4
Collections: Tales of Voskye (Dungeons and Dragons Homebrew Campaign)





	where the fire burns hot and bright

**Author's Note:**

> My half-elf bard, Ash, is not the most perceptive. You can read this without really knowing the characters or campaign in greater detail. 
> 
> Title from 'Amy aka Spent Gladiator 1' by The Mountain Goats.

Ash's heart pounded against his chest as he skidded around the corner into the alley, short of breath from running and from suppressing the exhilarated laughter that threatened to burst out of him. The sound of the merchant's heavy footsteps on the cobbled streets sped past his hiding spot and Ash folded, hands braced against his knees, confident he'd given his pursuer the slip. Ash knew the merchant wouldn't be that invested in finding him now. The chase was mostly a show of good faith for the rich customer Ash had pickpocketed from; the merchant hadn't taken a loss himself, but tolerating thieves in his shop would certainly cost him future business. 

"Not bad, hotshot," came a deep voice from Ash's left. He straightened up, a fresh flood of adrenaline surging through him at the sudden noise. Within the dark of the alleyway, Ash spotted a familiar large figure leaning against the wall further down. 

“Thanks,” he said, untensing. “I thought so.”

A chuckle emanated from the shadows and Joraal pushed himself away from the wall, stepping forward so Ash could see the wry look on his face. The dragonborn clapped a large hand on Ash’s shoulder.

“I said ‘not bad’, I didn’t say ‘good’. Good would be not getting spotted in the first place.”

Ash jutted his chin defiantly and puffed up his chest, trying to make his lithe frame look remotely imposing. 

“Hey, I was doing fine, it was just bad luck that someone else came in right as I was making the lift. The rich bastard was oblivious before that.”

“You know, I wouldn’t throw around words like ‘oblivious’ if I failed to even notice someone coming towards the shop door.”

“Looking at the door every few seconds would’ve been far too suspicious!”

“In your case? Perhaps,” Joraal smirked. “Subtlety has never been your strong point, _noachi_. You just need work on paying attention to the big picture.”

Joraal pulled Ash towards himself and turned, slinging an arm around him and started walking them westwards through the narrow streets and back alleys. Ash thought about arguing some more but decided to just lean in to the comforting weight of Joraal’s arm across his shoulders and let himself be guided to wherever.

*

Ash followed Joraal through the dimly lit inn, past a handful of patrons, to the door of a back room. Ash had played a few of the local bars and taverns by now but the Anqa Inn was not one of them. It was sorely lacking in atmosphere and he made a mental note to ask someone about putting on live music nights. Joraal rapped his knuckles against the door.

“It’s open,” came a voice from the room beyond. 

Joraal opened the door and held it for Ash, nodding in the direction of the human sitting at a table covered in parchment. Ash walked a few steps into the room, and Joraal followed closing the door behind them. The man stood up and moved around the desk to greet them.

“Carl, this is Ash,” Joraal said, gently nudging him forward. “Ash, meet One Egg Carlton.”

Ash looked at the soft, eager smiling face of the man before him and took his outstretched hand to shake it.

“One Egg?” he asked.

Carlton sighed and rolled his eyes.

“You mix up one metaphor _one_ time and some people —” he looked pointedly at Joraal, “— never let you live it down. Just call me Carl. Please.”

The bar didn’t look like much and neither did Carl, but Ash had learned by now that looks can be deceiving. Joraal had introduced Ash into his little band of rebels who had taken him under their wings and taught him new skills for living hand-to-mouth. Comprised largely of tieflings, half-orcs, and others deemed untrustworthy or dangerous, these were the people who had shown Ash more kindness and compassion than his own father. In the years since leaving the forest, the Irregulars were the closest thing he had to a family. If Joraal thought this guy was someone worth knowing, that was good enough for Ash. 

The stirrings of rebellion had been around for a while but so far it was all small factions of dissidents across Voskye without a united front. Recently, however, Joraal had been talking about action on a larger scale. He seemed to think it would require a signal, something impossible to ignore, for that to ever happen. 

“So, my fine friend here tells me you’re in touch with a few different groups with, uh, common interests?” Ash said.

“That’s right,” Carl said, moving back toward the table. “I’ve been trying to help coordinate our efforts and raise funds so we can support our own.”

Ash was still not fully sure what the eventual goal or plan for this rebellion was but it was enough to be content that he was on the right side in all of this. 

“There’s a few things in motion,” Carl continued. “I know you Irregulars are planning something big but Joraal can tell you more about that than I can. I’ve been acting as a fence for a few… retrieval specialists. We’ve been working to redistribute the wealth.”

Ash nodded. “Stealing.”

“And passing it on to those who actually need it or can put it to better use, yes. I have a guy in London who’s been collecting spell books. He’s hoping to start an underground magic school for people who can’t afford these new tuition fees.”

At the mention of the fees Joraal muttered something in Draconic that Ash didn’t recognise, but the tone made his meaning crystal clear.

“Sounds good. How can I help?”

Joraal clapped his hand on Ash’s shoulder and grinned at him.

“Ha! There’s my little spark,” he said fondly. Ash beamed back, a warm glow in his chest at the nickname. Joraal often joked that Ash was more of a fire hazard than himself, but “little spark”, he said, was more about the potential he saw in Ash than his penchant for arson. Ash hadn’t really known what to do with that. His mother and his best friend, Malrisa, had always had time for him and encouraged or tolerated his many fleeting interests and pursuits, but no one had _believed_ in him the way Joraal did. It was a little intimidating, honestly, but if this was his chance to prove Joraal’s faith in him wasn’t misplaced, Ash didn’t intend to let him down.

“We’re thinking about running some long cons to get more money together and we want to maybe infiltrate some of the more affluent parts of the city to try and gather some intel. Joraal tells me you’re quite the performer.”

“I’ve had no complaints.” Ash smirked, his eyes glancing lustfully over his friend’s muscular body. Joraal made a soft, low sound in his throat and Ash shot him a wink. 

“Well,” Carl said, flushing slightly and looking intently at a blank piece of paper on his desk, “you could try and talk your way into some high end venues and see what you overhear?”

Ash made a face. “I’m not so good with the recon missions. I prefer a more hands-on approach.”

He glanced at Joraal again, who fixed him with a look that promised the night was going to get much more exciting once they were done here. Ash smirked, licking his lips. Carl gave a small cough. 

“In that case we could use you as a grifter, but on a bigger scale than you’re used to.”

“No problem.”

Carl carried on talking for a bit about the different groups he was in touch with, some others he knew of but hadn’t yet contacted, places that Ash could lie low if things ever went south on a job, more manifesto type stuff. Ash wasn’t really taking too much in at this point, preoccupied with plans to be on his knees in the nearest alley he could drag Joraal to. Carl paused and gave another small cough. 

“You know, it’s getting late. There’s a room free upstairs if you want to crash here and we can pick this up in the morning.”

Ash’s attention snapped back to Carl. 

“That sounds great, yes, let’s do that.”

Carl moved to a small cabinet on the wall beside the desk and grabbed a key from inside. 

“Room 4,” he said, tossing the key to Joraal. “Enjoy.”

“Thanks, Carl,” Joraal replied, not looking at him as Ash grabbed his free hand and pulled him towards the door. “I’m sure we will.”

*

The night air seemed to hum with anticipation, like the tide pulling back before a huge swell broke on the shore. Ash felt like his whole body was vibrating, the usual pre-performance butterflies swarming his stomach tenfold. He took a deep breath and let the adrenaline sharpen his focus. Joraal and Mordai, another of the Irregulars, had been organising for months and tonight was finally the night to put their plan in motion. Ash had never been one for tactics or forward thinking so he just left them to get on with the details, knowing if they needed him they would ask. 

What they had asked was for him to create a diversion. Ash and a couple of others would rally a crowd, head to one of the nicer parts of town where people gave a damn about property damage and noise violations and proceed to fuck shit up. Something spectacular enough to pull the royal city guard away from wherever Joraal and his team needed to be, in order to give them a better chance of success. Ash didn’t know what it was they were trying to succeed at, but an excuse to help his friends and give a big fuck you to the pigs that targeted the people who had embraced him as one of their own would have been motivation enough to do it. In truth, though, the simple fact of Joraal considering it important and trusting him to help was what made him agree.

“We’re nearly ready to move, _noachi_.” 

Ash turned toward Joraal, who had been getting his team geared up and into position, and walked over to him.

“Leadership suits you,” Ash said, looking appreciatively. “I like it when you get all authoritative.”

Joraal gave him a half-smile, but didn’t say anything.

“Hey,” Ash said, putting a hand against Joraal’s arm. “It’s going to be fine. You’ve got this.”

Joraal cupped Ash’s face and gently ran a thumb across his cheek. Ash nuzzled into Joraal’s rough palm. 

“This is a big risk. I don’t know what the consequences will be for us, but I hope it will bring about some good in the long run.”

“That big picture you’re always talking about?”

Joraal laughed under his breath.

“I know I’m putting a lot on you, throwing you in the firing line without an explanation but I promise, it’s for a good cause. The less you know, the better; plausible deniability if things should go wrong.”

Ash placed his hands against Joraal’s chest. 

“I trust you. You need me to do something, I’ll do it. No questions asked.”

Joraal slipped his other hand around Ash’s waist and pulled him close.

“My little spark,” he said in a low voice, leaning down to kiss him softly. Ash reached around Joraal’s neck and pushed himself up on his tiptoes, humming into the kiss contentedly.

From behind them came the sound of someone clearing their throat.

“Sorry to interrupt,” said Mordai, “but everyone’s ready to go. Showtime, Ash.”

Ash took another deep breath, squared his shoulders and grabbed his things. 

“I’ll see you for the encore,” he said with a wink, trying to diffuse the tension. He squeezed one of Joraal’s hands briefly and started to make for the door. Joraal, not letting go of his hand, pulled Ash back and kissed him again, a little desperately. He pressed his forehead against Ash’s. 

“Give ‘em hell, _irthiski_.”

Ash reluctantly broke contact and raised Joraal’s hand to his lips before heading to the doorway.

“Trust me,” he said, flashing a grin over his shoulder. “It’ll be a riot.”


End file.
